If you look off to the side you will see the blog roll. This entry comes from the wonderful Matthew J Trask. He had this on his site and gave me permission to use it here. Check his site out some time. Just don’t let him  come to your house to eat! 😉

The Unfortunate Fred Ziffle

My dad is one of those people who has to tell cautionary tales to children and the inexperienced, to warn them of various pitfalls.

The fictional individual my dad employed for this purpose was a man named Fred Ziffle.  Poor Mr. Ziffle couldn’t pour water out of a boot with instructions written on the heel, and he was dismembered almost weekly in one of Dad’s illustrations.

For example, if we were working around a PTO shaft, and someone in the group was wearing loose fitting clothing, particularly drawstrings on a sweatshirt, Mr. Ziffle, still covered in dirt from last week’s burial, would be hastily shoved to the front of our imaginations.

“You don’t ever wanna do that,” Dad would begin.  “Let’s say me and Fred Ziffle are working around the PTO shaft (poor Fred at this point grimacing and saying “oh sonofabitch not again!”) and Fred’s got those drawstrings hanging down and he bends over to look at something. ‘Mr. Trask, I think I’- and POW (he was always in the midst of addressing Dad when the calamity befell him) he’s all wrapped up in the PTO shaft, he’s dead, there’s blood all over…”

But the best part, the part that really drove it home, was yet to come.

“And then I got to go to the house and call Mrs. Ziffle (ah yes, the long suffering Mrs. Ziffle, who understandably lived in terror for the well-being of her son) and say, ‘Mrs. Ziffle, I’m sorry, but your boy was working on the PTO shaft and he, uh, well, I’m sorry, I tried to tell him, but he’s dead, you’re going to have to come out here and get him, I’m sorry.”

Such a shame.  He was recovering so nicely from that wire stretcher accident he had last week…